Beautiful Disaster
by Pookster1234
Summary: It is after the trio's graduation, and the war is raging on. As everyone scrambles in preparation for the last battle, a strange chain of events begin to take place. And it all begins with a bloody Draco Malfoy on Harry's doorstep. No slash
1. Unexpected Slytherins

A/N: OK this is my second fanfic. This story is going to cover the war with Voldemort after the trio is out of school. I won't tell you the ships... because I'm honestly not sure of them yet! Give me suggestions please! I really, REALLY need them. It's going to be kind of dark... we'll see.

**Beautiful Disaster**

Unexpected Slytherins

_He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare,  
And he who has one enemy will meet him everywhere_.

–Ali ibn-Abi-Talib, **A Hundred Sayings**

The war had begun. There was no denying that. Voldemort was gathering Death Eaters and dark creatures rapidly to build an army that caused a growing uneasiness among the Order and the Ministry. Mysterious deaths were occurring among many, muggles mostly. The last two years had been utter hell, the wizarding world in chaos and living in undisputable fear.

Perhaps that was a lie. Reactions to war have always been mixed. Those few directly affected felt anger, resentment, and lived in fear for their loved ones and themselves. Most people tended to say 'Oh dear, that's just too bad... oh! There's a sale at Madam Malkin's!' or some other lame, completely domestic idea. Why? Not because they were heartless, far from it! Everyone is the center of their own universe, and that it the truth.

Still, the Boy-Who-Lived was the center of more individuals' universes then people would have in ten liftimes.

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had been daunting and obviously disgusting the first time Harry had experienced it. Wallpaper pealing off of the walls, cabinets that would surely kill you if you didn't lock them properly, and dark creatures running up and down the halls in the night. Unfortunately, two years later, the state of the place hadn't improved drastically.

However, one extremely hot summer's eve after his seventh year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter sat happily in the dining room of Grimmauld Place, only slightly woozy of butterbeer. He sat languidly, feeling more relaxed then he had in the last year. He had graduated, and finally left Privet Drive. He was surrounded by people that he loved dearly, and the euphoric aura of the room was intoxicating. Bottles littered the wooden table as he examined the group, all laughing at a certain redhead.

"Stop! _Stop_!" Ginny Weasley shrieked in laughter, clutching the stitch in her side. "It's just too funny!"

Ron grinned, but was only encouraged by the ravishing guffaws around him. "Seriously! I honestly think Snape fancies her! I mean, can you believe that? He got all puppy eyed when she asked," he put on a very sickening girly voice, "'Could you please tell me where my son is?' ick! Bloody hell, it's Malfoy's mom for Merlin's sake!" he soon gave in to a fresh burst of delectable laughter which had been hard to come by in the last year.

Harry gave a meek smile. He'd obviously gotten older. His face, thinner than it had ever been, was nonetheless handsomely so, in an odd fashion. He stood taller then he had imagined he would have been, considering the circumstances, nearly 6'0" which he thought of as quite the accomplishment. Still undeniably slender, it seemed that his sickly demeanor had faded slightly. His jade eyes had never faltered, which he thanked the heavens for never losing his one connection he shared with his mother. Yet, the round glasses and the rumpled raven hair were the same, and the lightning scar on his forehead still remained.

He stared at Ron, who was still joking animatedly. Ron had grown into a much more outgoing persona ever since he had started dating Hermione in sixth year. Always being incredibly tall, he had grown even more, so that it was ridiculously easy to pick him from a crowd, not that, that would have been a problem. He retained the flaming red hair and freckles that so endeared him to the Weasley family. His blue eyes shone as he turned to beam at the petite brunette holding his hand.

Hermione was much the same, yet, now that Harry stared at her, she seemed softer. He knew that wasn't true. She had been the same Hermione all during their last year, chiding them for leaving homework until the last minute and studying diligently in the common room basking in the firelight while Crookshanks purred on her lap. She had the same bushy hair, same clean face, free of makeup, and the same sharp voice. Yet, her face had softened with age, and she had turned into a nearly pretty girl, depending on who was looking at her. She was average to most, but to those who loved her, she was beautiful inside and out. Then again, he supposed, that went for everyone.

They had all finished laughing, yet Harry could see from their glazed expressions, the drunkenness was taking its toll. Hermione and Ron were now speaking in hushed tones, both smiling warmly. He was mildly surprised, as it was they didn't show such affection for each other often. He saw that they were both glowing, whispering softly, not taking their eyes off of each other. He felt a sudden surge of affection for his friends, but was soon pulled from his thoughts.

"I still can't believe you guys aren't going to be at school with me next year," Ginny said, plopping in the seat next to him. "It's going to be so... bizarre."

Harry turned to admire Ginny, who had probably changed the most out of the rest of them. She had grown a bit into her womanhood... to say politely. Her mischievous nature was addicting and radiated from her freckled face. He understood why she was the receiver of so much attention from the male population at Hogwarts. However, every time he looked into her big brown eyes, he only saw the frightened little girl lying unconscious in the Chamber of Secrets. Horrifically enough, this comforted him.

"You'll manage I'm sure," he yawned, absently trying to smooth his hair. "won't it be nice without us there? You can do whatever you want without worrying Ron is going to kill someone."

Of course he was referring to the many boyfriends she had, had. Michael Corner, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Terry Boot were only the beginning. She flicked a copper strand of hair from her face before speaking again.

"I haven't seen you smile in a while," she said seriously. "I missed it."

He grinned. "That's because I'm piss drunk."

She snorted, all the more causing her to feel like his little sister.

"Even so, I missed it."

"Are you implying that I should take up drinking heavily?"

"No, I'm simply implying that you should loosen up once in a while."

He began an angry retort, but she stopped him before he had the change.

"Forget it. I'm just worried about you... we all are."

Harry sniffed. Crossing his arms he tried desperately to look aloof. Then again, he had never been excellent at hiding his feelings.

"Don't. I have enough people all over me these days. I really don't need another."

She gave an exasperated sigh. Suddenly, she began digging in her purse, so quickly Harry was sure that he had seen the lightbulb flick on over her head. He stared at her, amused. He could always count on Ginny to pleasantly surprise him.

"Look!" she laughed evilly as she flung a copy of the _Witch Weekly _into his hands.

He read the cover carefully, holding back snickers. The garbage was littered with certain articles such as, "My Boyfriend's a Vampire... What Now!" "20 Magical Scents that will Put Him in the Mood (Warning: Use only around lovers or people you want)" and "Dress Like a Banshee!"

He groaned when he saw the article Ginny was pointing at.

"The 25 HOTTEST Wizards in the World"

He glanced down at the picture of himself. Colin Creevy had obviously caught him studying for his N.E.W.T.s, for he had dark circles under his eyes and looked extremely rumpled. His picture self was shaking his head and biting his lip nervously, as he was surrounded by books. When the black and white boy noticed that there was someone looking down on him, he blushed silver and waved awkwardly.

"Number 9," he read aloud, a hint of bemusement in his voice. "Well surely not!"

Ginny was in utter hysterics, latching onto him for support.

"Lord that's funny!" she grinned. "You look so helpless."

Harry shook his head. Flipping the magazine shut, he gave an enormous yawn.

"Bollocks that is..."

"I thought you'd enjoy it." she said knowingly.

"Thanks." her eyes lit up, as she gathered herself, folding her legs under he body.

Harry looked around. Nearly everyone had gone to bed, and he was sure if he closed his eyes and dreamily listened he could hear the heavy breathing of a full house. Almost all of the Weasleys were living here now, not to mention Remus Lupin and Tonks, who seemed in Harry's opinion, a bit too fond of each other for a platonic relationship. Plus, visits from others in the Order came daily, as it was, they were all preparing for that inevitable battle. He felt is stomach lurch.

_No_, he thought desperately, _not thinking about that now._

He watched Ginny stand and give him a warm hug goodnight. Harry sat alone in the darkness, candlelight flickering wildly. He let his thoughts wander to Sirius. His mouth felt dry. Sirius... his godfather and friend. The man who had died on his merit.

As much as he was assured it wasn't his fault. That Sirius was a smart man, that his death was a terrible accident. Harry understood. No matter what, those he trusted were always in danger.

_Story of my life_, he figured bitterly. _Someone's _always_ in danger_.

The doorbell jogged him to his senses. He jumped, shocked at the sudden volume of the noise. He only had a moment to wonder, _Who the bloody hell would be coming here at this time of night!_

_Maybe it's apart of the Order._

_Maybe something happened!_

_Maybe it's an enormous emergency that is going to affect the entire wizarding world!_

He nearly hit himself. _Maybe it's sodding Santa Claus, but you better answer the door you psychotic dolt!_

He rushed to the door, preparing himself for the worst. Nothing could have prepared him for who was on the other side.

He flung the door open to see a small girl holding up a tall blonde boy who was so covered in blood, he was almost unrecognizable.

Almost.

The boy groaned and glanced at Pansy, who had a look of sheer terror plastered on her face.

"Fuck... it's Potter."

Harry was dumbfounded. He gaped at the one person who he was sure he wouldn't see for a very, very long time.

Draco Malfoy.

**A/N: OK I really need reviews people! Otherwise I'm unlikely to keep writing this because I need your help on what ships do you think we should do... let me know!**

**Love you all!**

**Pooks**


	2. Torture?

**A/N: wow I never update this quickly... oh well! Next chappy, here we go! Much thanks to SLNS and Ghost tiger for reviewing. You guys rock!**

Torture?

_And then she looked at me to scream  
"My castles are falling"   
But I can't look into the street  
Without everything changing   
I want to read good news  
I want to be innocent again  
I want to read good news  
But nothing good is happening_

–Something Corporate

Harry was at a complete loss for words. His mouth was opening and closing much like a fish out of water. His quick reflexes from Quidditch and constant preparation for the war were lightning fast, and soon he found himself pointing his wand shakily at the couple in front of him.

Pansy let out a tiny yelp, and made a surrendering motion.

"Pot-er-Harry!" she cried in such a desperate fashion that he felt a small pang of sympathy for her. "We don't have our wands!"

"What are you doing? I mean,_ how_ did you get here?" he demanded his eyes darting, searching for more Death Eaters. How stupid did they think he was? He had to admit it was quite an idiotic idea, sending his mortal enemy as bait and a decoy. What did Voldemort possibly think, that he was incapable of not saving someone? Well, perhaps he did feel responsible for helping innocence out of danger, but if there was one person he could deny, it was Draco Malfoy.

"Dumbledore told us, how else?" Malfoy said irritably, as if the answer was quite obvious. "Good Lord, of all people here to answer the door..." He maneuvered himself into the light, but still clutched onto Pansy. Now that he was in full view, Harry noticed how completely wounded he was. Blood was spattered all along his normally immaculate dress robes. They were torn, as if someone had dragged him through a jungle of knives. Dirt was embedded as well on his clothes, and it mingled with dried blood in his silver hair. His lip had been busted, and was swollen to the size of a marble. A fresh black eye was forming, making his own eyes seem smouldering. In short, the boy looked as if someone had cut, scratched, beaten, tortured, and strangled him in one sitting.

"Will you stop staring Potter?" Malfoy sneered, pulling Harry out of the borderline concern for him, into the intensified hatred he had always held for him since his first year. Even a battered Malfoy was an annoying prat. He had half the mind of slamming the door in his face, when Pansy interrupted the coldness.

"Draco, _please_." she pleaded. Now that Harry stared at her, he saw that she was sufficiently injured as well. Not nearly as bloody, but hints of black were littering her face. He had never seen the expression on her face before. Complete hopelessness.

"This was a mistake," Malfoy said, eyes flashing angrily. "I told you. Even Potter isn't that virtuous." sarcasm oozed from his voice. "Lets go-"

"Go where? You may be ready to bleed out in the street because of a silly school rivalry," Draco and Harry both opened their mouths to argue that the rivalry ran much deeper then schooltime and Quidditch. "But, _I'm_ not going to let your arrogance kill you!"

Malfoy shot her a glance of deep loathing, but it seemed he had either lost so much blood, or had gone momentarily speechless, that he didn't care much for arguing. Pansy had softened a bit as she turned to face Harry.

"Harry," she began nervously. "He tortured Draco... Please let us in. Dumbledore told us to give you this so you'd know we were telling the truth."

Her knees buckled under his weight. Harry was unsure how, but she suddenly had withdrawn a letter with the obvious Hogwarts crest, and Dumbledore's curly writing. He knew the letter was unmistakably from Dumbledore, and couldn't fathom how they would have found Grimmauld Place without him, since he was of course the Secret-Keeper. He was also dumbfounded of why on earth Dumbledore would trust two children of very well known Death Eaters.

Malfoy coughed. "Honestly Potter, if you don't even trust your precious Dumbledore, you're more Slytherin then I gave you credit for."

Harry scowled. "Stupid prat." he muttered as he moved to let them in.

Draco Malfoy was not one to ask for help. Especially from Golden Boy Potter. Yet the dizziness was enveloping his mind as he held onto Pansy. His breathing was harsh, and he was sure that if he didn't get a Blood-Replenishing potion soon, he was going to collapse right here in the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, a.k.a. The Most Idiotic Group of People I Will Ever Seek Help From, which was a horrifying thought.

He saw that Potter had made a motion to help Pansy hold him up, but he narrowed his eyes at him. There was no way he was going to let Potter touch him.

"Don't even think about it."

Potter sent him a look of deepest loathing.

_Fantastic._

A sudden rumble came down the stairs. _Ah,_ he thought bitterly, _of course how could I forget... the Dream Team!_

Sure enough, half of the Weasleys, Mudblood, Weaselette, the Werewolf, and some girl he had never met, but was sure that she was not wearing her natural hair color, came bounding down the steps. Their wands were out blindly, and they were dressed in a string of rather embarrassing pajamas. Draco smirked at the parade of fluffy slippers and flooded pants.

"It's Malfoy! Curse him! Quick!"

_Wonderful Weasley, I'd rather enjoy another slug spectacle. _

Potter made a sign of peace, yet Weasley didn't look reassured.

"Ron!"_ Ah Mudblood... I should have expected you to speak by now. _"He's hurt!"

He couldn't contain himself.

"Seriously Granger?" he sneered. "I hadn't noticed!"

Pansy poked him between the ribs, sending sharp burst of pain through his muscles. He refused to give a cry, but felt the white hot pain ripple through him. He turned to glare at her.

"What the hell?" he hissed angrily, sure that if he had, had a wand he would curse her into oblivion.

"Just shut up for once, got it?" he hissed right back. The expression on her face was chilling, as she fumed. He shut his mouth immediately, focusing on the pain that was now flooding through him. _You wait, _he thought anxiously, _I'll get you back for this Pansy_.

Lupin immediately rushed forward, helping Draco to a very dusty couch. He was only able to express his disgust for a moment, when someone was shoving a vials of potions and pointing wands at him. His utter disbelief that these people were actually helping him was almost frightening. He seemed to have drifted for moments, but after half an hour, he was lying on the couch, feeling weakened but the bleeding had stopped.

"Here eat this, you'll feel better." Lupin handed a Honeyduke's chocolate bar to Draco, who felt nausea in his stomach by just looking at it. He noticed the Golden Trio share a smile, as if the whole chocolate deal was funny.

_Good Lord, this is going to be awful._

With one last look at the five teenagers in front of him, all with completely different expressions, he rested. Weaselette, a look of wide eyed surprise. Pansy, a face full of worry. Weasley, pure loathing. Granger, a mingled look of concentration and hopelessness. Lastly, Potter... a look of complete angry confusion. Well at least he'd managed to get on Potter's nerves.

With that, he blacked out.

"Is he going to be alright?" Pansy asked in a worried tone that vaguely bewildered Hermione. She steered Pansy to the kitchen away from Malfoy, who had passed out on the couch. _Well he should've_, she thought to herself, _Professor Lupin laced that chocolate with three Dreamless Droughts._

"Of course," she replied, rather matter-of-factly. She had never taken a liking to Pansy, but the girl was a mess. She pulled her to the sink and cleaned a some of the wounds, while sticking her wand to mend them. Pansy winced each time, and she seemed on the verge of tears.

"Look, Granger." Hermione's eyes snapped up, outrage beginning to coarse through her body. After all this, the girl was calling her Granger?

Pansy seemed to have taken the hint, and tried frantically to redeem herself. "Hermione... sorry, old habits die hard."

"Like calling me mudblood? Or being absolutely rotten to anyone who wasn't apart of your little 'clique?'" she would have liked to say more, but the beaten sight of Pansy softened her tongue just a bit. She remembered chiding Ron for not embracing Inter-House Unity. Surely they were adults now. They could handle each other.

Pansy stared at the floor, tears welling up in her eyes. She just looked so... so... Hermione debated, and then realized she had never seen a Slytherin with that emotion. She was painfully pathetic and helpless.

"I'm sorry." she mumbled to the ground. Ah the infamous refusal of a true apology was still there, but Hermione knew how hard it must have been for her to say those words. She calmed herself a bit, if only to find out, _what were they doing here?_

"What happened Pansy?" Hermione asked, not bothering to dodge around the subject any longer, it really wasn't in her nature. Besides, if they were to make small talk, what would she say? It wasn't like they had anything in common surely.

Pansy sniffed. "I don't know... it's Draco... he-he..." she burst into desolate sobs, covering her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking violently. The tears that had been threatening to come since Hermione had seen her in Grimmauld Place were now flowing freely. She wiped the snot from her face, and looked completely horrid.

Hermione had many choices. She knew she had hated this girl since second year when she had been oppressed against by both her and her stupid chittering girlfriends. She recalled the small bit of envy she had felt, even it only for an instant. Yet here this girl was, emitting loud sobs from her mouth, had obviously been through hell, and for some strange reason, Dumbledore trusted her.

She reached over and snatched up a rag and filled a glass of cold water. Handing them both to Pansy, she muttered softly. "Calm down... Pansy, calm down."

She listened intently to the words in between heaving breaths.

"He-he said he d-didn't want to... he said he w-wanted to be f-f-free..."

Confusion was clouding Hermione's mind.

"You're not making sense, Pansy. Free from what?"

"Everything! His father!" her voice suddenly became very hushed. "_Him..._"

The cranks in her brain clicked.

"Voldemort?"

Pansy gave a loud yelp at the name but nodded vigorously and howled, "Yes! Him! And they did... _things_ to him." she made a terrified face. "Horrible, horrible things! And I tried to help, but I-I _couldn't_. They were going to kill us, but there was a Portkey, and-and... oh!" she had a fresh wave of tears. "Ask Draco, please ask Draco!"

Hermione was stunned. Much of it didn't make any sense. A Portkey? Draco refusing the Dark Mark? It still didn't explain how they had gotten here. When had they spoken to Dumbledore? Her story had too many holes.

"Pansy, you're not making sense..." she began heavily.

"Ask Draco! Don't ask me anymore!"

Out of pity and sheer exhaustion, Hermione stopped asking questions. However, she was sure to have an interesting conversation with Malfoy after this.

**Review and let me know of your ideas!**

**Love you all!**

**Pooks**


End file.
